(Woman narrating) You've heard the tale, haven't you? The forbidden reunion between angels and demons. When I was a child, my parents would share this story with me—a tale wrapped in mystery and sorrow.
(As the narrator speaks, the sound of swords clashing resonates across a rain-soaked rooftop.)
Since the dawn of time, the armies of Heaven and Hell have waged an endless war called the 'Bloody War'. Drawn from the conflict, an angel and a demon defied their own kind for the sake of ending the war and saving humanity. With their combined powers, they sealed Limbo, the fragile bridge that connected the celestial realm of the High Heavens and the infernal realm of the Burning Hells—a place where the two races waged their bloody war.
(Two figures lock blades: one draped in a crimson coat, the other in deep blue. The man in red wields a longsword in his right hand, while the man in blue grips a katana with his left.)
They imprisoned the forces of Heaven and the wicked denizens of Hell within their domains, finally ending the war for good. But because one was an angel and the other a demon, their act of sacrifice condemned them to be eternally trapped within Limbo.
(The swords clash again. The red-coated warrior strikes upward, only to be countered expertly by the blue-coated fighter.)
I never believed the story. The reunion of an angel and a demon was a mere fantasy, a fanciful myth told to children. But I have learned that this legend is no mere tale; it is actually real.
(An ethereal piano sound can be heard, followed by an opera. It swells softly as the warriors' blades ring thunderously through the storm.)
How can I tell that it is real? Because their love bore twin fraternal boys, hybrids of angels and demons, known as the Nephilim.
(Their blades clash, their faces almost look alike, the only distinction being their hair color and hairstyles. The red-coated man's hair is brushed down and white, and his expression smirks with confidence. The blue-coated man's hair is swept back, and he maintains a solemn, stoic gaze.)
Bound by the blood of both their mother and father, the brothers fought fiercely like mortal enemies, relentless and unyielding.
(Their movements blur with unnatural speed. The red-coated man swings his sword on his right side, slicing one raindrop that falls to his right. The blue-coated man swings his sword in front of him, also slicing one raindrop that falls in front of him. Because of their speed, the rain didn't hit them as it fell from the sky, creating a sphere of water that surrounded them.)
It seems as if they derived some sort of twisted pleasure from this brotherly fighting.
(The blades meet with a final forceful clash as the watery sphere shatters. The red-coated man disarms his brother, sending the katana clattering to the wet rooftop. With a cruel thrust, he drives his sword into the blue-coated man's abdomen, drawing dark blood. The woman narrating went quiet, along with the music, as the only thing that could be heard was the brothers' breathing. The blue-coated man coughed up blood, while the red-coated man's expression turned serious. After ripping his blade free, he allows his brother to collapse.)
(The woman narrator continued.) But in the end, only one was left standing. (The woman's voice quiets, the opera continues in the background, followed by the piano.)
(The red-coated man gazes down at the fallen figure, rain clinging to his soaked hair, his expression turned stoic and filled with disappointment etched across his face. He sheaths his sword and retrieves the fallen katana, then turns to leave. The blue-coated man stirs weakly, fingers twitching as he attempts to rise. Suddenly, the red-coated man spins sharply and lunges forward. The blue-coated man meets the fire in his attacker's eyes—then everything fades to black, and everything goes silent.)
Somewhere in the wilderness lies The Cell, a prison for both monsters and humans, a place where artifacts, words of power, and all the myriad untouchables that threaten the stability of this world are sealed away. Should its containment ever be breached, the horrors that would be unleashed are unimaginable.
Within this prison were three sections separated by gender, for humans: the left side for women and the right side for men. The other section is where the monsters were placed. However, there was another section that was created for high-class humans and also for ancient monsters. These prison cells were placed away from their respective sections because the people inside them were considered too dangerous for an ordinary cell; they were placed in the fourth section that is separated from the three, in SSS-class prison cells—a section where dangerous individuals were put.
In one of these prison cells was a prisoner named Samuel Reyes Santos, the infamous hitman for hire. He was placed in this prison cell because of the horrendous crimes he had committed in the past. His crimes were all related to killings; it didn't matter if it was a target or a non-target, as he would eliminate them without hesitation to keep himself afloat and entertained. He always liked to seek a thrilling challenge, something that his targets rarely provided. Nonetheless, a paycheck was a paycheck, and he always made sure to flex his strength regardless of the target.
Samuel was charged with First-Degree Murder, Manslaughter, Mass Murder/Spree Killing, Genocide, Contract Killing, and Assassination. His last act before being sent to prison was killing the HoloCity president live on TV, while millions of people were watching his run for presidency. Samuel killed the president because he was given a contract by one of his clients (a rival to the president who was also running for presidency) so that his client would have no competition left.
Inside Samuel's prison cell, a door burst open, revealing Samuel Reyes Santos, brushing his wet, messy, long white hair (which reached his neck) with a towel. It turns out he was in the bathroom, having just finished taking a bath, as steam was still visible.
Samuel, in his mid-twenties, had a boisterous, extroverted personality and a carefree, almost reckless attitude focused on fun and the thrill of fighting. He stood approximately 195.58 cm (6'5") tall. A playboy, he enjoyed social activities and the company of women without necessarily forming serious relationships, especially with those he found attractive. A jokester who constantly told jokes—often dirty, sometimes annoying, and deliberately irritating—he was a Nephilim, a hybrid offspring of angels and demons Handsome, tall, and muscular, he attracted numerous admirers and was known as "The Big Bad Booty Daddy" by the women he hung out with. The authorities called him "The Infamous Merc With a Mouth" for his talkative nature, mockery of enemies, and fourth-wall-breaking humor, making him a very skilled hitman for hire.
Samuel was shirtless, revealing a well-defined muscular physique. On his lower body, he wore camouflage-patterned green cargo pants and black fingerless gloves on both hands. He had pale skin, amber eyes, and thick, defined eyebrows. He was wearing a golden necklace with a magenta pendant.
He also wore a prison cell collar around his neck, alongside his necklace. The wardens placed this collar on his neck, as a requirement for all prisoners, to prevent them from using their powers, both human and monster. Samuel, as well as the others, couldn't use their Nephilim powers inside the prison. The collar had a central metallic module housing a red LED and featured boxy, detailed gray attachments on either side, giving it a rugged, futuristic aesthetic.
As Samuel finished brushing his hair with the towel, he tossed it aside as if he didn't care about the world. He walked straight toward his refrigerator and opened it to find something to eat. He pulled out a family-size glass bottle of a soft drink named Royal and two boxes of bacon cheeseburgers. He opened the soft drink and started drinking it as he walked slowly to his sofa, sitting down and bouncing back slightly from the impact. He also opened a box of burgers and started eating one.
"Mmm. Mmm! This shit is yummy..." Samuel said, as he enjoyed every bite of the burger.
Samuel then glanced at his surroundings, admiring his prison cell as he took a bite of the burger. He looked up at the calendar to see what day it was. It was June 23, 5051; he realized it had been a year since he had been in prison. He leaned back on the sofa and looked at the ceiling, hating to admit it, but he loved it here in prison.
His cell was well-furnished and clean, and the guards gave him what he wanted except for bringing women into his cell, of course. He lived like a king here, but even though he had everything, there was one thing that the Wardens failed to maintain: his boredom. He felt bored, extremely bored. He missed the thrill of carnage, the money that his clients paid him, the women he hung out and slept with, and especially the fights he could get into. Even though his life here in the prison was like a king's, he felt bored being here.
Samuel sighed and said in a bored tone, "Man, fuck this life... I'm gonna die of boredom..." he said as he slowly took a bite of his burger.
He then glanced at the time and saw that it was 12:00 PM, meaning one of the prison guards would be patrolling the high level SSSA prisons. He also noticed that they carried keys, and he guessed that one of those keys was for the collar on his neck.
"Ahh, maybe if I can lure one of those motherfuckers inside my cell, and somehow kill him and steal the key, I might be able to leave this hellhole..." he thought as he grinned deviously. "Yeah, good idea... I just need a way to lure him inside..."
Samuel pondered, tapping his finger against the burger box. He needed a foolproof plan, something that would pique a guard's curiosity and draw them in without raising immediate suspicion. Violence was always an option, his go-to, but subtlety was key if he wanted to get his hands on that collar key.
A mischievous glint sparked in his amber eyes. "Alright, let's put on a show," he muttered, a wide, almost manic grin spreading across his face. He tossed the half-eaten burger back into the box, the aroma of cooked meat momentarily forgotten.
Samuel stood up, stretching languidly, his muscles rippling beneath his pale skin. He sauntered over to the cell's intercom system, a small, unassuming panel on the wall. He pressed the call button, and a digitized chime echoed through the prison block.
"Yeah, what is it, Santos?" a gruff voice responded, laced with irritation. It was likely Jenkins, a particularly humorless guard who seemed to take personal offense to Samuel's existence.
Samuel adopted a tone of feigned distress, his voice laced with a touch of theatrical desperation. "Jenkins, buddy, I think I'm dying! It's... it's my stomach! Agony, I tell you! I need a medic, stat!"
He let out a dramatic groan for good measure. He could practically feel Jenkins rolling his eyes on the other end.
"Yeah, right, Santos. Last time you pulled this 'dying' act, you just wanted extra ketchup. I'm not falling for it."
"No, no, this is serious! I think it's the burgers! They're... they're trying to kill me from the inside!" Samuel clutched his stomach theatrically, adding a series of pained whimpers. "Please, Jenkins, I beg you! Just... just check on me! If I die, who will tell you all those hilarious jokes?"
A beat of silence hung in the air, followed by a reluctant sigh. "Fine, Santos. But if I find you perfectly healthy and enjoying a gourmet meal, I'm adding extra latrine duty to your schedule, and I'm confiscating those burgers."
"You're a lifesaver, Jenkins! A true hero!" Samuel chirped, his grin widening. "Hurry, before I... before I..." He trailed off with another groan, ending the transmission.
Samuel turned away from the intercom, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Now the stage is set," he whispered. He quickly surveyed his cell. "I just need to find a place to hide, then I'm going to strike when he doesn't notice me..." he thought to himself.
His gaze darted around the opulent cell, his mind already plotting the guard's demise and looking for the most suitable spot. The king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets, was too obvious. The entertainment center, complete with a massive flat-screen, offered a bit of concealment, but not enough for a man of his stature and agility. Then his eyes landed on the bathroom, the very place he had emerged from moments ago.
"Perfect," he murmured, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The bathroom, still steamy from his earlier bath, had a small alcove behind the door—just enough space to squeeze himself into. The lingering mist would obscure his form, and the element of surprise would be firmly on his side.
He moved with a predator's grace, padding silently back into the bathroom. He grabbed the towel he had carelessly tossed aside earlier, dampening it further under the faucet. The wet towel would serve as a makeshift gag, silencing Jenkins if the situation called for it.
He slipped behind the door, flattening himself against the cool tile. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the prison's ventilation system. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, and slowing his heart rate. He needed to be a coiled spring, ready to unleash at a moment's notice.
Time seemed to stretch into an eternity. Each second felt like a hammer blow, his anticipation building with every tick. He imagined Jenkins marching down the corridor, his heavy boots echoing against the concrete floor. He pictured the guard's face, etched with a mixture of annoyance and reluctant concern.
Finally, he heard the telltale sound of the cell door unlocking, the metallic click a symphony of impending violence. He tensed, every muscle primed for action. The door swung open, revealing Jenkins, a hulking figure with a permanent scowl etched onto his face.
"Alright, Santos, where's the fire?" Jenkins grumbled, stepping cautiously into the cell. He scanned the room, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I don't see any—"
That's when Samuel struck. He exploded from behind the door, his movements a blur of controlled aggression. He clamped the wet towel over Jenkins' mouth and nose, muffling his startled cry. Jenkins, caught completely off guard, struggled against Samuel's superior strength.
Samuel wrapped an arm around Jenkins' thick neck, cutting off his air supply. The guard thrashed wildly, his hands clawing at Samuel's arm and his boots kicking against the tiled floor, but Samuel held on, his grip tightening with unwavering determination.
Jenkins' struggles grew weaker, and his movements became more sluggish. His eyes widened with panic, and his face turned a mottled shade of purple. After what felt like an eternity, his body went limp, his weight slumping against Samuel. Then, he broke Jenkins' neck, as a cracking sound could be heard, killing him completely.
Samuel slowly released his grip, letting Jenkins' body slide to the floor with a sickening thud. He knelt beside the fallen guard, checking for a pulse. Nothing. "Sorry, Jenkins," Samuel muttered, looking at Jenkins' dead body with a smirk on his face. "But you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, buddy," he said jokingly.
With Jenkins dead, Samuel wasted no time. He quickly rifled through the guard's pockets, his fingers searching for the coveted key. He found a hefty ring, overflowing with keys of various shapes and sizes. "Huh, this might be the keys from all of the prisoners' collars..." he muttered, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "But, I wonder where my key is..." he thought to himself as he examined each key. "Oh well, I guess I have to find that out then," he thought, as he quickly tried each key on the collar around his neck. He hummed musically, his expression somewhat smiling.
Finally, one clicked into place. "Bingo..." he said happily, as he twisted it. The collar sprang open and fell to the floor with a metallic clang.
He slowly rotated his neck, groaning with each turn, as a surge of power coursed through him, a familiar energy he hadn't felt in a year. He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. His Nephilim abilities, dormant for so long, were now fully awakened. He could feel his senses sharpening, his strength returning, his very being humming with untapped potential.
Samuel slowly rotated his neck, a cracking sound audible as he groaned with each movement. He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes, his amber irises glowing with a faint, ethereal light, now changing to crimson demonic eyes, as he grinned devilishly. "It's good to be back, baby," he whispered, his voice laced with newfound power.
Now that he was free from the collar's suppression, he could take down anyone who got in his way. Without the collar, the guards were powerless to stop him now.
"Now, before I have to leave this place, I have to get my weapons first. I miss wielding my two beautiful girls..." He said, referring to his twin Desert Eagle pistols named Mercy and Cruelty. "And my big boy, Retribution..." Samuel said, referring to his Nephilim sword.
Samuel turned towards his drawer, walked to it, and opened it, revealing his red coat. He smirked proudly as he took the red coat and slowly put it on. The red long coat with short sleeves, open to reveal his arms and his muscular six-pack abs, was a signature element of his design, reached down to his knees, and flowed slightly behind him. It had a somewhat tattered look, adding to his rebellious aesthetic. The sleeves had zippers, and a buckle cinched the waist in the back of his coat. In the back of his red coat, a brown leather holster was where he put his twin Desert Eagle pistols, Mercy (white and black) and Cruelty (black and white), and also where he put his massive, double-edged longsword as well. But since his weapons were confiscated, the brown leather holster was empty.
Samuel smirked, adjusting the coat on his shoulders. "Time to pay a visit to the armory," he said to himself. He knew the layout of the prison well, having spent the last year observing every nook and cranny. The armory was located on the other side of the prison, near the main entrance. It was heavily guarded, but with his newfound abilities, Samuel was confident he could handle anything they threw at him.
He stepped out of his cell, leaving Jenkins' body lying on the bathroom floor. He made sure to lock the cell door behind him. "Don't want any unwanted guests," he chuckled. He walked down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the silent prison hallway. Little did he know, he was being seen on the CCTV, but luckily, the guard who was supposed to be watching the CCTV cameras was sound asleep.
As Samuel made his way through the prison, he noticed the atmosphere was eerily quiet. Usually, there was a constant hum of activity, inmates yelling, guards patrolling, the clang of metal doors. But tonight, there was only silence, aside from the rhythmic thud of his own boots against the linoleum floor. It was unsettling, but it also made his task easier. He passed by the cafeteria, its stainless steel tables gleaming under the dim emergency lights. He thought for a moment about raiding the kitchen for a snack, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Time was of the essence, and he couldn't afford any unnecessary detours.
As Samuel continued to sprint in the prison hallway, five beautiful women suddenly sprinted into the hallway from the right. The group, known as Advent, was a group of criminals who had escaped their prison cells. The group consisted of Shiori Novella (The Archiver, and supposedly the one leading the escape), Nerissa Ravencroft (The Demon of Sound), Koseki Bijou (The Jewel of Emotions), and the identical twin sisters Fuwawa Abyssgard (The Fuzzy One) and Mococo Abyssgard (The Fluffy One, also known as The Demonic Guard Dogs). They were all sprinting side by side in the hallway, having managed to escape their prison cells.
Shiori Novella has mid-length two-tone black and white hair, with some sharp hairpins reminiscent of a shuriken-like weapon. Her eyes are a bright, glowing light yellow. She wears a dark purple and black jacket and dress that have some 'dripping' parts. She has two rings on each hand, and long fingerless gloves. She stood at almost 163 cm (5'4") in height.
Nerissa Ravencroft has long, straight black hair with a blue inner side decorated with silver and golden ornaments on her left. She used to have two symmetrical horns, but one was broken long ago. Her horns have a blue internal layer covered with a black one that takes the shape of musical notes near their base. Her horns are also decorated with black flowers. Nerissa has light purple eyes and a beauty mark below her left eye. She also has such a mark on her right thigh.
Nerissa usually wears a striped shoulderless white shirt decorated with a black bow and a ruffled collar. The sleeves are covered with black fabric and resemble feathers at the edges; she wears black gloves. She has a sleeveless, layered coat tied together with three crossed belts below her chest. She wears asymmetrical high boots; the right one has a diamond pattern. Nerissa can also carry a giant tuning fork decorated with the same flowers as her horns. Her raven mascot Shadow can also stand on her right shoulder. She stood at almost 175 cm (5'9") in height.
Koseki Bijou has long, silvery-purple hair with darker purple eyes. On her head, she wears a dark purple crown. She has metallic pink wings and also has purple gemstones embedded or protruding on various parts of her body, most notably a large chest jewel, and small gems under her right eye and on the back of her hands. Despite appearances, her feet are not made out of gemstone; instead, she has regular human feet encased in gemstone that she can remove at will. Her default hairstyle consists of hair flaps, double parted center-flap bangs, and sidelocks. She stood at almost 140 cm (4'7") in height.
Fuwawa Abyssgard has long blonde hair with little pigtails on the side with streaks of light blue and bright pink eyes. She also has dog ears and a collar. She wears a pastel blue headband and hairclips, with one hairclip being shaped like a white bandage with a blue center. She stood at almost 155 cm (5'1") in height.
Mococo Abyssgard has short blonde hair with streaks of pink and pointed dog ears with white tufts coming out. She wears a black and pink jacket, headphones, and a collar around her neck. Her hairpins are a light pink "X" shape and a white and pink center bandage that parallels her sister's. She stood at almost 155 cm (5'1") in height.
Samuel and Advent crossed paths in the hallway, their eyes meeting. A momentary silence engulfed the hallway. As the five women saw Samuel, they were stunned at how extremely handsome he was; the girls blushed heavily at his handsome appearance, each having their own reactions. Samuel, on the other hand, was surprised to see five beautiful women in the prison hallway.
The five women's eyes slowly looked down to his muscular six-pack underneath his red coat. Shiori, Nerissa, and Bijou were blushing, looking at his torso, stunned, while Bijou covered her mouth with her hands. Fuwawa and Mococo, also blushing heavily, covered their faces with their hands, but they tried to peek between their fingers, glancing at his abs from time to time. The girls noticed that he was not just very handsome; they also noticed that he was very tall as well. Samuel, seeing the five beautiful women's reactions, smirked, knowing that they were looking at his muscular six-pack abs underneath his coat. He liked their flustered reactions to him. The five girls starting to feel hot inside their bodies, as a feeling of sexual arousal grew stronger as they watched Samuel.
"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" Samuel said, breaking the silence, his voice smooth as velvet and laced with amusement. "Five lovely ladies, out for a midnight stroll? Or should I say, a prison break?" He let his gaze drift over them, lingering for a moment on each face, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "You like what you see, girls..." He said in a teasing tone and chuckled.
Shiori, ever the composed leader, was the first to regain her composure. She stepped forward, her yellow eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and calculation. "We were just about to ask you the same question," she said, her voice cool and collected. "A handsome man like you, roaming the halls of The Cell? You're either incredibly foolish or incredibly dangerous. Which is it?"
Samuel chuckled, a loud but intrigued sound that seemed to vibrate through the air. "A bit of both, perhaps? Foolish enough to get caught, and strong enough to break free." He gestured towards the open cell door behind him. "As you can see, I was just about to make my grand escape. Care to join me, ladies? I could certainly use the company," he said flirtatiously.
Nerissa, still slightly flushed, couldn't help but be intrigued, her light purple demonic eyes looking at Samuel's muscular body with a bit of hunger. "And why would we want to join you?" she asked, tilting her head. "We have our own plans, our own destination in mind," she said flirtatiously.
"Oh, I'm sure you do," Samuel replied, his eyes twinkling. "But let's be honest, a group of beautiful women on the run is bound to give me some motivation. With me by your side, you can guarantee that I will protect you girls. And I'm quite skilled at handling sticky situations." He winked, and Mococo and Fuwawa giggled, earning themselves a playful glare from Shiori.
Bijou, who had been silent until now, spoke up, her voice soft and melodic, her darker purple eyes looked at Samuel's abs, but she turned her head to avoid looking at them too much, her face still flustered. "What is your name, Mr.?" she asked, her gaze fixed on Samuel's.
Samuel smiled warmly and spoke. "Very well, if that's what you want then. My name's Samuel Reyes Santos, I'm known as the Infamous Merc With a Mouth, a hitman for hire; I specialize in making problems disappear... permanently. And the ladies call me, Big Bad Booty Daddy," he said proudly. "Oh, and ah, I'm also a Nephilim..."
A collective gasp rippled through Advent at the mention of "Big Bad Booty Daddy," and Samuel chuckled, clearly enjoying their reactions. Shiori, despite her attempts at composure, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Nerissa's lips curved into a playful smirk, and Bijou's blush deepened. Fuwawa and Mococo, however, simply erupted into another fit of giggles, Fuwawa's bright pink eyes and Mococo's bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. They had heard the legends about the Nephilim and never thought they would meet one in their lives, and he wasn't just a Nephilim but also a hitman, an assassin for hire.
"Big Bad Booty Daddy, huh?" Nerissa purred, stepping closer to Samuel, her eyes raking over his form before slowly looking up at his handsome face. "That's quite the title. I suppose we'll have to see if you live up to it," she said, putting her right hand on his abs and touching them, as the two locked eyes.
Samuel looked down at her, smirking seductively as he chuckled. "Oh, I assure you, I do," Samuel replied with a flirtatious tone. "If you like..." he said, holding her chin, "I can give you a good time to prove that I'm The Big Bad Booty Daddy..." he said in a low but seductive tone, licking his lips.
Nerissa shivered slightly at his touch, a bolt of electricity going through her whole body, her eyes darkening with a mixture of desire and lust. "As tempting as your offer may be, Mr. Santos," she murmured, her voice a husky whisper, "but we have more pressing matters at hand. We have a mission of escape, and we can't afford any... distractions." She smirked, her fingers still tracing the contours of his abs. "Perhaps after we've achieved our goals, you can show me your... talents," she said seductively. Samuel smirked and chuckled at her response.
Bijou, in the corner, was watching the flirting between the two, with a mischievous smile on her face. Fuwawa and Mococo, who had been whispering excitedly to each other, piped up in unison. "We think he's cute!" Fuwawa squealed, her blonde pigtails bouncing. "And he's really tall!" Mococo added, her pink and black headphones slipping slightly.
Shiori's eyes narrowed slightly, assessing Samuel. "A Nephilim, I see; it explains why I sensed an immense power radiating from him. Interesting. That explains a lot now..." She thought to herself. Shiori, being an Archiver and having read millions of books before her imprisonment, knew what a Nephilim truly was: a hybrid offspring of angels and demons. As hybrids, they wielded the powers of both heaven and hell in the palm of their hands. They were considered cursed creations by the Higher Gods because they were not created by them, but by angels and demons. The Higher Gods considered the Nephilim race a threat because they not only possessed the power of heaven and hell but also could have the power to kill god-level beings.
"But I thought that the Nephilim were extinct millennia ago; I didn't know that some survived the extinction," she thought, remembering the legend that she read in the book of records, a forbidden book that is only for the deities to read. She glanced pointedly at his physique, a faint blush returning to her cheeks. She hated to admit it, but his appearance was irresistible; she was starting to go crazy by looking at him, she found him very hot. Any woman who looked at him would be hypnotized by his attractiveness.
Shiori decided to introduce herself. She stepped forward and cleared her throat, drawing the attention back to herself. "Nerissa, enough flirting," she said with a hint of exasperation. "I am Shiori Novella, and these are my companions: Nerissa Ravencroft, Koseki Bijou, Fuwawa Abyssgard, and Mococo Abyssgard," she gestured to each of the women in turn. "We are Advent..."
Samuel was surprised at hearing their group called Advent. "Advent, is that what you girls call yourselves...?" he said in a surprised tone.
Shiori nodded, her expression turning serious. "Yes. It stands for an Archiver, a Demon of Sound, a Jewel of Emotions, and Demonic Guard Dogs. We each possess unique abilities that make us a force to be reckoned with," she said. "I'm an Archiver..."
Nerissa struck a dramatic pose. "Indeed. I, for instance, can manipulate sound waves to shatter eardrums or create sonic illusions. Music and songs to put despair into the hearts of the innocents. Quite useful for... persuasion," she said proudly. "I'm the Demon of Sound..."
Bijou delicately adjusted her crown. "And I can manipulate emotions, drawing upon people's deepest fears and desires. A subtle yet effective weapon," she said in a high-pitched tone. "I'm the Jewel of Emotions..."
Fuwawa and Mococo, finally emerging from behind their hands, grinned mischievously. "We're the demon guard dogs!" Fuwawa chirped. "We bite!" Mococo added, baring her teeth playfully. "We are the Demonic Guard Dogs..."
Samuel chuckled, crossing his arms, his red coat swaying slightly. "An Archiver, a Demon of Sound, a Jewel of Emotions, and Demonic Guard Dogs... Quite the ensemble you've got there," he said, his amber and crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "And here I thought I was the only one with a flair for the dramatic."
He paused, tilting his head slightly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So, Advent, tell me... what's your destination? What grand scheme are you plotting that requires such a... specialized team?" He let his gaze sweep over them again, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.
Shiori hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to her companions before settling back on Samuel. "That is information we do not freely share," she said, her voice firm. "We appreciate your offer of... assistance, but our mission is one we must undertake ourselves."
Nerissa, however, seemed less convinced. "Don't be so hasty, Shiori," she purred, her hand still lingering on Samuel's abs, earning a playful glare from Shiori. "Having a Nephilim on our side could certainly be... advantageous. Especially one with such... compelling attributes." She winked suggestively.
Bijou, ever the empath, sensed the subtle undercurrent of emotions swirling around them. "Perhaps we could hear him out, Shiori?" she suggested softly. "His intentions seem... genuine. His skills could prove invaluable."
Fuwawa and Mococo, their attention spans as short as ever, were already bouncing on the balls of their feet, eager for some excitement. "Ooh, yeah! Let's hear what he has to say!" Fuwawa exclaimed. "Maybe he can help us bite people!" Mococo added, her canine teeth flashing.
Shiori sighed, recognizing the shift in the group's dynamics. "Very well," she conceded, her eyes returning to Samuel. "I guess I have no choice but to tell you our reason for escaping this prison." She said, her expression turning serious. "Our reason for wanting to escape this hellhole is to rebel against the world and to seek our freedom, our destinies, and to escape our monotonous lives, with each of us having a specific reason for this escape," she said to Samuel. "I sought more forbidden knowledge; the Abyssgard twins, Fuwawa and Mococo, sought freedom and adventure, and Nerissa and Koseki also sought to escape their predetermined fates."
Samuel listened intently, his expression thoughtful. He recognized the glint of rebellion in their eyes, the yearning for something more than the confines of their existence. He, too, knew what it was like to chafe against restrictions, to crave the thrill of the unknown.
"Rebellion, freedom, destiny..." he murmured, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Those are worthy goals, ladies, goals that resonate with mine." He chuckled, his gaze sweeping over each of them once more. "And I must admit, the prospect of teaming up with such a... talented and beautiful woman is rather appealing."
Samuel stepped closer to Shiori, looking down at her, his eyes locking with hers, towering over her. Shiori also looked up, meeting his eyes, and noticed that he was not just attractive but also very tall. "I understand your hesitation, Miss Archiver. Trust is a valuable commodity, especially in our line of work. But I assure you, my interests align with yours. I seek the same things: freedom, excitement, and a chance to leave my mark on the world."
He extended his hand, palm up, toward her. "So, what do you say, Shiori Novella? Shall we join forces and rewrite our destinies together? Or will you turn down the help of a hitman who can definitely help you accomplish the things you wanted?" He said in a sincere tone. "But, I'm not going to force you if you don't want to."
Shiori studied his hand for a moment, her mind racing. On one hand, he was a complete stranger, a wildcard whose motives were still uncertain. On the other hand, he possessed immense power, a charismatic charm, and a shared desire for freedom. Moreover, her companions were clearly drawn to him, and she couldn't ignore their opinions.
She glanced at Nerissa, who nodded encouragingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Bijou offered a gentle smile, her face radiating reassurance. Fuwawa and Mococo, unable to contain their excitement, bounced up and down, practically begging her to say yes.
With a sigh of resignation, Shiori reached out and clasped Samuel's hand, her grip firm. "Very well, Mr. Santos," she said, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. "We accept your offer of assistance. Let's see if you can keep up with Advent."
Samuel grinned, his amber and crimson eyes gleaming with triumph. "Excellent choice, milady," he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. "I assure you, you won't regret this."
He turned to the rest of the group, his smile widening. "Now, ladies, shall we get out of this delightful prison and onto the first step of our adventures?" he paused. "I know this place well, but before we get out of this hellhole, I have to get my weapons first. Follow me," he said as he snapped his fingers. "I know the location of the prison's armory. It's heavily guarded, but with our combined skills, we can definitely make our way there."
However, unbeknownst to the six of them, they were being watched on the prison's CCTV. The guard who was monitoring the cameras spotted the escaped prisoners. The guard's eyes widened in disbelief as he zoomed in on the hallway. Five women, each with a distinct aura of power, accompanied by a man he vaguely recognized from the prison's high-security wing: Samuel Reyes Santos, a name whispered in fear among the inmates. A Nephilim, they said. The guard shook his head; he'd always dismissed it as prison gossip. But seeing him now, leading this unlikely group, a shiver ran down his spine. The guard clicked the siren button, and as he did, he reached for the intercom, his hand trembling slightly.
Then, a siren rang in the prison hallway, and a red light began blinking. The piercing wail of the siren shattered the brief moment of camaraderie, jolting them back to the urgent reality of their escape. The red light pulsed ominously, painting the hallway in a lurid, frantic glow, and then a voice could be heard on the hallway speaker.
"Attention all units, we have a situation in Sector 7. Multiple escaped prisoners, including... including Samuel Reyes Santos, Shiori Novella, Nerissa Ravencroft, Koseki Bijou, Fuwawa Abyssgard, and Mococo Abyssgard," the guard shouted into the speakers of the hallway. "I repeat, multiple escaped prisoners, including Samuel Reyes Santos, Shiori Novella, Nerissa Ravencroft, Koseki Bijou, Fuwawa Abyssgard, and Mococo Abyssgard. Release the Sentinels!"
The ear-splitting wail of the alarm sliced through the hallway, and the guard's loud voice in the speakers echoed, shattering the momentary calm. The red strobe lights painted the scene in a frantic, urgent hue, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to writhe with unspoken danger. Samuel's smirk widened as he got excited.
"Well, about time they showed up," Samuel said, cracking his fists. He then turned toward the five girls and spoke. "I hope you girls know how to fight; I don't want your escape plan to be ruined," he said in a joking tone.
Nerissa, ever eager for a fight, grinned wickedly. "Darling, we're not just pretty faces," she purred, her voice dripping with amusement. "We know how to handle ourselves." She cracked her knuckles, and a faint sonic hum emanated from her fingertips.
Bijou, though more reserved, adopted a determined expression. "We've survived this long," she said softly but firmly. "We're not about to be caught now." Her eyes began to glow with a subtle purple light, hinting at the emotional manipulation she could unleash.
Fuwawa and Mococo, their initial excitement amplified by the adrenaline, bounced on the balls of their feet, their sharp teeth glinting in the red strobe light. "Time to bite!" Fuwawa squealed, her blonde pigtails flying. "Let's play!" Mococo added, her pink and black headphones sliding off slightly as she lunged playfully at the air.
Shiori, ever the strategist, quickly assessed their surroundings. "They're coming at all sides. We need to strategize a plan for us to escape; this hallway is a death trap," she said, thinking to herself. She then turned toward Samuel and spoke. "Samuel, how far is the armory?" she asked, her voice calm and focused despite the chaos. "And what kind of resistance can we expect?"
Samuel smirked, relishing the anticipation. "If I remember correctly, the armory's about two levels down, give or take. As for resistance... think heavily armored guards, automated turrets, an army of Sentinels, and maybe elite Sentinels as well," he replied, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and caution. "Buuut... I don't think it's a threat to me, really. I can do those motherfuckers with my bare hands alone..." He said in a joking tone as he shrugged.
To be continued.